There was a new security guard in the lobby, this one younger and better looking but no more welcoming than the first one. Once again, we had to wait while he called up to McDonald to make sure it was okay to let us into the elevator.

I had to suppress a smirk at the expression on his face when he hung up the phone. It looked like McDonald had given him a good chewing out.

“Right this way, sirs,” the guard said, his tone somehow managing to be both sullen and grudgingly respectful. I took notes. It might come in handy someday when dealing with vampires.

When we got to McDonald’s office, Candi gave us a hesitant smile and handed a bag of blood over to Paul. He took it and politely drank. I knew it was polite because he ripped off the top and drank like a (mostly) n...

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